Canadian Alpine Journal/Volume 1/Number 1/The Ascent of Mt. Hungabee

by Herschel C. Parker

THE ASCENT OF MT. HUNGABEE

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By Herschel C. Parker

On August 3rd, 1897, it was my good fortune to be a member of the party that made the first ascent of Mt. Lefroy.

During this trip, from Abbot pass and the summit of Lefroy, we gained splendid views of the grim cliffs and lofty summit of the great "Chieftain." I think some of the party must have felt, even at this time, a strong desire to conquer so fine a peak.

I made a rapid trip through the Canadian mountains in the summer of 1899, but had little opportunity for climbing. Through the courtesy of my friend, Professor Fay, however, I was able to join him in the first ascent of Mt. Dawson. When I returned to the Canadian Alps in the summer of 1903, prepared for serious climbing, I found that four of the most notable peaks remained unclimbed: Mts. Hungabee, Deltaform, Goodsir, and Biddle.

After the "Conquest of Mt. Goodsir"' on July 16th, I returned to Lake Louise, and with Christian and Hans Kaufmann prepared for an attack on Mt. Hungabee. It may be remembered that Mr. Thompson and Mr. Weed, with Hans Kaufmann as guide, had made a gallant attempt on the mountain some time before this, but when near the summit the climbing became so difficult that they were compelled to turn back. For a long time, and from many points of view Christian told me he had carefully studied the mountain and decided on what should be the exact route of ascent. While the lower portion of this route probably presented considerably greater difficulties than the one previously attempted, it appeared to offer a good chance of attaining the final summit. I think, in giving a short account of the climb, I can scracely do better than quote from an article I wrote for "Appalachia" a short time after the trip was made.

On the morning of July 20th, with a week's provisions, silk tent, and mountaineering equipment, we made a rather late start from Lake Louise. A packhorse carried most of our "impedimenta" as far as Moraine lake. Here, assuming the heaviest of packs, we proceeded slowly up the Valley of the Ten Peaks, and, crossing the high pass between Neptuak and Hungabee, made a rapid descent to Prospector's valley, where we arrived in good time to make camp.

Leaving camp next morning at 3.50, we made our way up Prospector's valley to within about a quarter of a mile of the Opabin pass, whence, taking to an arête, we had a fairly easy and interesting climb of possibly two thousand feet. At this point further progress was barred by a wall of vertical cliffs. Directly in our path this rocky battlement was broken by a narrow icy couloir and a much narrower chimney filled with ice. After inspecting the couloir. Christian decided that the chimney would be the safer means of ascent, and so, after seeing that Hans and I were in as secure positions as the circumstances would permit, and with directions not to move from our places close against the rock, he disappeared around an angle and commenced the perilous climb.

It was only by watching the rope that Hans and I could judge the progress Christian was making above us. For minutes at a time, it seemed, the rope would be motionless, then inch by inch it would slowly disappear up the chimney, and the crash of falling rocks and ice would warn us that we must cling even more closely and find what protection we could beneath the rocky wall.

At last Christian gave the signal that I was to follow, first cautioning me most earnestly not to knock any rocks down on his brother Hans, for a slight mishap to any member of the party in a position like ours might mean a catastrophe for all. A short space of breathless effort, a strong pull on the rope from Christian, and I stood by his side at the top of the chimney. Then, slowly and carefully, Hans made his way up and joined us.

Above us we could see a smooth, steep slope leading to the final summit arête. This slope consisted of snow, covering treacherous rock, but, thus early in the morning and while in shadow, it was in fine condition, and we made our way easily to the great shoulder of the mountain just under the final peak and almost overhanging Paradise valley. On this shoulder, a second breakfast was eaten, and we anxiously studied the route that we must follow. The summit was only a few hundred feet above us, but the arete, broken by vertical cliffs at this point, was impossible to scale. We had only one alternative left, to make an exciting traverse over a tremendously steep snow-slope at the base of these cliffs, and so reach the final cone.

We did not discuss the possible dangers of such a course, but cautiously made our way beneath the cliffs, turned a most sensational corner almost in mid-air above Paradise valley, and then scaled a nearly perpendicular cliff by means of a convenient crack. We were now on the arete but a very short distance from the summit. Only one more difficulty confronted us: a narrow "gabel," or break in the arête, only a few feet in width, it is true, but with a nearly sheer descent of thousands of feet on either side. This gabel must be crossed to reach the summit. The arete was far too narrow to allow a jump being made with safety; so, slowly and carefully, while firmly grasping the rock on one side. Christian thrust his feet forward until they

Photo, Chas. E. Fay THE CLIFF AND SUMMIT OF MOUNT GOODSIR (11.676 FT.) AS SEEN IN 1901

Photo, H. C. Parker THE SUMMIT OF MOUNT HUNGABEE (11.447 FT.) SHOWING FOOTPRINTS OF THE TRAVERSE

touched the other and his body bridged the chasm; then a strong forward swing, and he stood safely beyond the gap. For me, aided by the rope, the matter was far less difficult, and soon we made our way over the intervening arete, gained the corniced summit, and Hungabee, the grim old "Chieftain," at last was conquered.

It was now 10.40 a.m., almost exactly seven hours since we left camp, and Christian warned us that we should not stay long, on account of the dangerous snow-slopes we must cross on our return. Hans wished me, however, to determine the altitude by means of the hypsometer, so I "boiled a thermometer," a proceeding which, on account of the high wind, consumed some time, so that it was nearly an hour later when we were finally ready to start downward. We reached the point where we had halted for breakfast, without difficulty, but from here down the hot sun beating on the snow was fast changing it to the consistency of slush, which threatened to avalanche at any moment. We crossed this safely, however, and arrived at the rocky shoulder just above the chimney. It seemed to me hardly more than three minutes after we had left the snow-slope before a portion of it, including almost our very footsteps, slid downward and disappeared over the cliffs below us.

The descent of the chimney was not an inviting proposition, for the condition had entirely changed since morning, and it was now spouting water. We did not hesitate long, but descended as rapidly as possible and soon emerged at the other end, somewhat wet but very happy, for now our difficulties were at an end. From here the way was comparatively easy, and camp was reached about six o'clock, after a most entertaining and glorious day.

The difficulties of any expedition, no matter how serious, always appear to diminish with the years through which we look back at them, and so, at the present time, I cannot accurately estimate the quality of this climb. Under certain conditions, for example: if the "chimney" should be free from ice and the slopes above from snow, two of the greatest difficulties would certainly be removed. It seems to me, however, that the ascent of Mt. Hungabee can never prove to be an easy one, and that it will always be found a most interesting climb for the expert mountaineer.